Page 30 of Tempting the King

Heat licks at my belly, spreading over my flesh until I’m teetering on the edge.

“Lose control, firecracker. Right here in the front seat of my truck. With people right outside. Fill my hand.”

My mind and heart struggle against the tide when he moves his lips to my ear. “No one will ever touch you the way I do. From now on, baby, this pussy belongs to me.”

His words crack like a whip down low, and I’m in free fall, his lips burrowing into the hollow of my neck, exploding the nerve endings into fractured prickles of heat.

He’s a client, and we are in a truck with people just outside the window, but my body doesn’t care.

It wants to please this man, and as many times as I tell myself I should not be turned on, I am.

So. Turned. On.

This is crazy. Maybe the craziest thing I’ve done in my life.

But, there’s a voice inside me saying, let go.

And I do.

As I fall into the light, my muscles spasm and his fingers move to cup my sex, the base of his palm taking point on the exploding center of my pleasure while my orgasm crests. Heat and wetness spill out of me in waves as I turn into a sightless, boneless, brainless, out of control mess.

“That’s my girl. You just filled my hand. I’ve got all the answers I need.”

His eyes are feasting on me as he brings his soaking hand to his mouth, slowly licking his palm and every finger.

“That’s how a good girl tastes. My good girl.”

CHAPTER 11

King

Me: How’s my girl?

I shoot off another text, leaning against my locker, in my pads and pants, waiting for the equipment manager to finish sharpening my skates for today’s practice. The locker room smells like sweat and ten kinds of masculine bodywash.

In the past, locker rooms always smelled like home. But now, her scent tells me she’s my new home.

There’s talking and laughter all around me as the team dresses for practice, but every thought I have is of her.

It’s been five hours and thirty-eight minutes since I walked into her office. It feels like a lifetime. Every minute my head is filled with her.

How soft her lips felt. The taste of our kiss. The way she said my name when she came. Her flavor on my fingers.

But, I’ve kept my vow, and it feels like living death.

Guilt ravages me for ruining her office. It was an impulsive move to light that handful of paper under the alarm sensor, but I’m a freight train barreling down the tracks when it comes to Emee Bristol.

After I took her shopping, I checked her in at the Lux, letting the concierge know whatever she wanted or needed, it was their job to provide. I hated leaving her, but I had my appointment with Dr. Hoffman, then practice, and she needed to get her feet back under her and breathe.

I can be a lot.

Her wide green eyes and that wild hair…not to mention how her tit fit in my hand perfectly and all that ripe sweetness she creamed into my palm, and how it tasted like forever. It all tells me I need to be inside her. How am I going to make it until the end of the season without nutting in that warm, sweet heaven between her legs?

Fuck. I squeeze my phone, staring at the screen. She’s not answering me.

It’s been ninety-six seconds, and I’m ready to come apart. I’m like a lovesick puppy, playing back every moment since she shocked my heart back to life and took control of my dick in that red dress.

It’s insane how possessive I feel about her already. The need to console and consume and care for her is unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

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